


When You Are Done

by ByelingualBH (ByeBH)



Series: Fixing Canon, Breaking Barriers, TFB [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Annoyed Husband Castiel, Because I needed it, Canonical Character Death, Crack Treated Seriously, Fandom Therapy, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Violent Regurgitations, alcohol use, dumbass dean, just 10 pages of sappy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27648784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByeBH/pseuds/ByelingualBH
Summary: “Heyya, Cas.”---------------------------Post-series canon fix-it.What it says on the tin.
Relationships: Bobby Singer & The Idjits, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Fixing Canon, Breaking Barriers, TFB [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022319
Comments: 14
Kudos: 71





	1. Wayward Sons Just Being Weary

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by the amazing Kirby at the PB server. PB deserves a lot of credit for genius little ideas like the neck thing that I basically stole and sprinkled in here.
> 
> This plot bee is still buzzing in my mind so I'll be adding chapters later. But you can read this chapter as a stand-alone. I'll give a heads-up when the actual plot starts, because I'm a sadist and I can't let the boys be.
> 
> First fic; I'm assuming the finale broke something in my brain. I _had_ to try to fix it.
> 
> _Slight tweaks to canon, and spoilers abound._  
>  I repeat: SPOILERS ABOUND.

Castiel sighed internally as Jack pulled him to the congregation of the remaining angels with him. He managed to avoid stumbling as his feet touched upon the platform, and he straightened up, gazing at his gathered brethren over Jack’s shoulder.

“Hello!”

Castiel could not see his face, but he would, as Dean said, “bet his buttocks” that Jack had a wide smile upon his face. The gathered angels, headed by Naomi, looked ahead impassively at their new leader.

Their new God.

Castiel hoped the shivers running through his vessel remained undetected by the others.

Jack had done it.

And then he had gone beyond that – pulling Castiel from the Empty, remaking heaven, fortifying it. Cas was certain Jack would continue on his path to make the world better. This one reality that remained.

“Jack, I do not believe your plan is sound. It would be much simpler to follow Duma’s path,” Naomi claimed, head held high as she stared defiantly at his son. “Until she was rudely interrupted in her task by the murderer you have on your side.” And then she shifted her gaze over to Castiel, eyes conveying her contempt and fury.

Castiel bristled. Duma’s death was one that he did not regret. Of all the blood he had shed in Heaven, there were a choice few that a dark part of Castiel’s psyche rejoiced over. Duma, Bartholomew, Raphael−

He paused as he felt a hand upon his arm, restraining him. With surprise, he realized that he had been moving towards Naomi, assuming an aggressive stance.

“Castiel raised me. He protected me. Duma was manipulating me, manipulating innocent humans, and Castiel did what he was forced to. As he always has,” Jack said, his voice calm yet commanding. Cas blinked, feeling a warm sense of calm take over his being as he listened to Jack command the angels. “And this plan is sound. Angels born from grace, getting raised before they assume their role as guardians and warriors is how we avoid the mistakes of the past. These angels will learn and feel from conception. And mark my words, they’ll do better.”

Naomi looked belligerent, before Anael reached out with an arm upon her shoulder, “Jack is right, sister. And he is our new God, so you’d best obey.”

Castiel cast her a small smile of gratitude and she nodded in acknowledgement.

“Okay, you can all leave now. You can visit the fledglings or the resurrected angels in the Garden. You can visit the new heavens … or you know, whatever. Just chill!” Jack grinned. He spun around to face Cas, before pausing and looking over his shoulder at the dissipating assembly, “Oh! And one more thi−”

He felt it in his replenished grace but his body shuddered visibly.

_Dean._

“−because I’ll have to banish you or take your grace … I’ll decide then I guess.”

Cas blinked, trying to get his breath under control. _Jack wanted to be a benevolent God, what is he talking about?_

And yet, his mind immediately strayed back to Dean. Dean was here. Finally. Cas felt his stomach clench.

Dean eyes full of pain and unshed tears, his uncharacteristic silence as Castiel bade him goodbye. And suddenly, he was desperate to hear Dean’s voice again.

“Jack,” his voice sounded hoarse as he pushed his voice beyond the obstruction in his throat. “Jack, it’s Dean.” Cas blinked as he realized that Jack had been looking at him this whole time, a small smile upon his visage that made him seem wiser than a soul as young as his should.

He nodded. “There’s a lot left to fix, Cas,” he said gently.

The fluttering within his vessel subsided somewhat even as he felt disappointment leech into his heart. “I understand. Of course, Jack. We have work to do.”

He blinked at Jack’s gentle chuckle. “No, Cas. _I_ have work to do. You should go.”

“Are you not accompanying me?” Cas blinked, his insides tighten even more as he thought about facing Dean alone. After … after his confession. “I thought you’d like to welcome him with me.”

“I’ll swing by. But I think you two need to talk alone without me … cocklocking you,” Jack was still smiling innocently but Cas’s face flushed.

“Um, it’s cockblock. I don’t think you’ll be um … doing that, of course.”

This time, Jack giggled openly. “ _Go_ , Cas.”

“ … Okay. Okay, um, just, let me know … if you need me,” Cas looked down, trying to calm himself and abate the redness of his skin. He shoved his fists into his pockets and unfurled his resurrected wings.

He propelled himself towards where his grace led him.

Dean ran his fingers along Baby’s roof as he fished for the keys in his pocket. He pushed the key into the lock when he heard the _whoosh_ behind him. Well, he knew what _that_ meant. A smile split his face wide as he spun to face his visitor.

“Heyya, Cas.”

He heard “Dean!” and then all the breath was squeezed out of his body and his vision was filled with tan.

“’k bud, I don’t wanna find out what happens when I choke to death in Heaven,” he grunted, genuinely struggling against Cas’s awkward manhandling.

“Apologies,” Cas took a step back and Dean’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes burned. “Hello, Dean.” _Oh no, waterworks._

“Cas,” Dean choked out even as the grin refused to leave his face. He probably looked like a maniac, but Cas didn’t seem to be faring much better with his teary eyes and trembling chin.

_God, he’s adorable. I just wanna swaddle him in a blanket and hold him close._

Dean blinked at the odd thought before dismissing it as he took in Cas. He looked good, less haggard and less wrinkly. The bags under his eyes were gone, and ain’t that a miracle. Given that the dude’s been cruising across restructuring Heaven with Jack, he looked significantly well-rested. _Maybe he sleeps in Heaven? Heck, the coffee’s probably Heavenly. Heh._

“You look happier,” Cas smiled.

“Compared to when you last saw me? Fucking hope so,” Dean snarked, still with the grin. “You dumbass.”

Cas’s gentle smile gave way to a cheeky grin. Dean’s heart did a weird jump in his chest. “I regret nothing, Dean.”

Unable to hold himself back because, _fuck it, we’re in Heaven_ , Dean reached out and cupped the side of his angel’s face, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” Cas smiled, gently canting his head into his palm.

“I want to. And Cas, I love you too,” Dean swallowed and he felt Cas tense up. He had to say it. He sighed, deflating and pulling his angel closer. He rested Cas’s forehead against his, a flash of pain going through him as he remembered Sammy tearfully doing the same mere minutes ago. He closed his eyes, “Cas, I love you _so much_. I do. Thing is, until you said that to me … I never …” he sighed heavily. “Cas, I don’t know if I love you how you want me to. But I know I love you.”

A few beats of silence passed. He felt Cas relax against him, he could smell the electric scent of Cas’s breath as he exhaled slowly. “Dean, I never expected that of you. I’m content knowing … no, I’m− I’m happy knowing you love me too. And I’m exhilarated loving you. I was afraid I’d overstepped that day, I−”

“No, Cas. You telling me that,” tears spilled over his cheek as he repeated those words: “Cas, you telling me that changed me. You changed me.”

In the silence that followed, Dean kept his eyes shut until he felt the Cas tremble against him. His eyes shot open, mind still conditioned like a hunter, and he saw his own expression mirrored on Cas’s face, twin streams of tears rolling down his cheeks. He rubbed them away, gently swiping his thumb under Castiel’s red-rimmed eyes.

After a few breaths, Cas whispered tentatively, “I know it hasn’t been long since Chuck was defeated. Why are you here so soon?”

The goddamn cascade of emotions pushed a bubble of hysterical giggles up his throat. He choked it down and pulled away, “Let’s go for a drive. You get shotgun, Sunshine.”

“You're telling me you were killed by construction material?” Castiel squinted at his charge, unsure if he was ‘pulling his foot’ or not. He could ask Dean: “Dean, are you pulling my foot?”

Dean snorted inelegantly. “Nah, I ain’t kidding. And it’s pulling your leg, not your foot.”

 _Pulling is done of the leg, not of the foot. Though they are referents of the same appendage._ Castiel made a mental notation and squinted harder at Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man who had vanquished monstrous foes. “Dean, you have defeated archangels, Knights of Hell, and God himself. How did a piece of rebar defeat you?”

Dean pouted adorably and Castiel was hit with a strange concoction of fondness and lamentation. Because Dean didn’t love him in the manner he loved Dean. And Castiel was grateful that Dean was upfront about this, for once divulging his feelings before it could blow up in his face, so to speak. But a part of him was still disappointed.

“Cas, you sayin’ I died lame?” Dean stuck out his bottom lip further, _and how is that even possible._ “’cuz, ya know, I can’t beat ya. You took one of the most powerful beings with you and you … you looked happy.”

Cas smiled. “I was. That was the deal.”

_Smack!_

Cas gazed at his arm in confusion, the one Dean had just struck with the back of his palm. He looked back up at his friend.

“Don’t gimme that look. Your dumbass was the one who sat on that secret for over a year. You coulda told us, Cas. And Sammy ‘n me would’ve figured some way out.”

“That is _precisely_ why I refrained, Dean. We had bigger things to worry about.”

“You and Sam are the two most important people to me, Cas. Nothing could’ve compared to that.”

Cas shut off his retort with a click of his jaw. A few moments of heavy silence persisted as he gazed at Dean’s face. Dean met his eyes. His eyes softened after a few moments and he turned back to the road. “Well, if I died lame, you died gay.”

“ _Dean_.” There it was again. Fond exasperation and longing.

“Okay, okay. I just never knew you swung both ways, man,” Dean giggled.

Of course, he himself would characterize that as a chuckle but Castiel knew the differences between the mechanisms that the human trachea engaged in to produce those sounds.

“I’m a genderless being, Dean. I may be used to this body now, I’ve been in it so long. But I’m still utterly indifferent to gender and sexual orientation. Those confines were creations of mankind.”

“I hear ya,” Dean muttered, reaching over after a brief pause to flick on the radio.

As an ensemble of instruments produced a loud but melodies symphony, Cas leaned back into his seat, breathing in the well-loved scent of Dean’s Baby. Leather and oil, like after he cleans her.

“God, I love this song,” Dean enthused with that little content grin that Castiel was growing fond of.

Castiel paid closer attention to the music.

 _There’ll be peace when you are done._ Castiel smiled.

It was a good song.

Dean drove until they reached a bridge. He wanted to stop. Ain’t like there was gonna be any traffic coming their way. He stopped the car in the beginning of the bridge and let the engine idle for a few moments, casting a look towards his companion. Cas’s eyes were closed, head tilted far back to rest on the seat back. Dean’s eyes caught on the long line of his throat.

_God, I wanna put my teeth on that throat._

He blinked.

Okay, that was weird.

Dean reached over, making sure to keep his hand away from Cas’s (delicious) throat and laid a hand on his shoulder. Blue eyes blinked awake slowly.

“Oh, I apologize. I must have fallen asleep,” Cas smiled, raising his head and rubbing his eyes violently. Before Dean could curb his weirdass instinct, he grabbed Cas’s wrist and blurted, “Hey, don’t break those pretty eyes, angel.”

There was a beat.

“Um, thank you,” Cas mumbled, even though it sounded like a question. His trademark awkwardness in the face of a compliment broke the strange tension and Dean chuckled, “Come on, let’s walk around a bit.”

Dean pushed out of his seat, taking in a breath of air. “I miss Sam.”

“Me too, Dean,” Cas said, coming over to his side, peering at him with that electric stare of his. “Had I known that would be the last time I’d see him … I will one day, I’m aware. But I still wish I could have provided some closure, for both of us.”

“I did,” Dean whispered. He cleared his throat, walking around the angel and planting his ass on the warm hood of the car. “I, uh, I held on for a while. And I could say goodbye to him. I told ‘im I was damn proud of him and that I loved him.”

Dean didn’t turn to follow Cas’s movements, but he felt the angel climb onto the hood beside him. He felt a warm hand on his nape, and it sent shivers down his spine until Cas started kneading the muscle. Then he just felt his body _melt_.

“I don’t envy Sam … watching you die is one the worst fates I can imagine. And Sam is one of the bravest men I have ever known, but I know how much he loves you. I don’t envy him for the pain he suffers, perhaps still, in the wake of your loss. But given that you could say a proper goodbye instead of being whisked away before … I’m glad. I hope he and Eileen find joy.”

The soothing quality of Cas’s voice and the warm and masterful ministrations of his palm filled Dean made Dean drowsy. _Magic fingers, for real._

He lay back against the windshield, eyes on the angel’s silhouette against the darkening sky. Cas was looking up at the stars, and Dean just wanted to sleep.

Sleep. Oh, right. “Hey, Cas? You sleep now?”

Cas looked down at him with another gentle smile.

_Damn, it’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket filled with love._

He lay back against Dean, turning to him and tucking his feet in a bit with a contemplative hum. “Well, I suppose I do now. Jack … made a lot of changes. Angels are weaker now. No longer all-powerful, wrathful beings. So we need to replenish our Grace, as you would replenish your energy. With food, repose … for the lack of a better analogy, we are more human.”

“Whose idea was the new neighborhood structure, hm? ‘coz it’s fucking perfect.”

“Kelly’s,” Cas said simply. “After Jack pulled me from the Empty, he brought me to Kelly’s while I recuperated. Heaven isn’t the only plane that has been revamped.”

Dean frowned. That sounded ominous. He lifted himself onto his elbow and peered down at Cas, frowning in silent questioning.

“Well, I believe I may be majorly to blame for this … the Empty has moved on from their desire to sleep into oblivion. They started a more hands-on approach, if you will.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up and a sense of horror crept in, “Torture.”

“Essentially, yes. That’s why I needed the rest after being pulled out. But I wasn’t the only one I who didn’t deserve to be tortured into oblivion, Dean,” Cas looked at him with a plea in his eyes, as if Dean could ever get pissed at him for having the heart of a goddamn elephant.

“Who’d you pull out?”

Cas peered at him through lowered lashes for a while before his face cleared up. “Gabriel, Anna, Gadreel, Hannah−”

“Wait, _Hannah_?! Cas, she tricked you and _tortured_ you,” Dean complained hotly.

“She’s my friend, Dean.”

Dean deflated. An irrational sense of jealousy coursed through him. _Divert, divert, divert your boat, gently down de Nile._

Swallowing ( _hehe_ ) the green monster, he smirked, “A friend, or a _friend_?”

_What the fuck, Dean?_

Cas rolled his eyes, not even bothering with a response, which, fair.

“Okay, who else?”

“Balthazar,” Cas continued and paused as Dean chuckled.

“God, I hate that smarmy dick.”

“Well, I’m sure he hates me just as much right now. I was, myself, a dick to him.”

“Gee, Cas, I’d say stabbing him in the back was definitely, unironically bein’ a dick,” but Dean was still grinning. As was Castiel.

He’d never seen the angel smile so much.

_Fucking hell._

“Fucking hell,” Dean whispered. Cas blinked, smile dimming a bit, and _nope_.

Dean leaned over and placed a wet one on the dorky angel.

After a few moments? Minutes? Hours? Of Dean Winchester attempting to short circuit Castiel’s brain, the angel realized what was happening and pulled away with agony.

“Dean? I believe I am experiencing mixed signals,” his voice sounded strange.

That, for some strange reason, made Dean break down into laughter.

Perhaps hysteria? Death was a traumatic experience, especially one as drawn out as Dean’s had been. Castiel vividly remembered that day in the barn, when Mary Winchester had tried to soothe the fire of the poison with gentle strokes on his forehead and Castiel had proclaimed his love for Dean before chickening out.

_I love you all._

Dean needed rest, and Castiel refused to take advantage of his friend in his deeply vuln−

“Fucking hell, Cas,” Dean drew in a deep and loud breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. Yes, I was sending mixed signals, you’re right.”

He should respond. But what would be deemed an appropriate response?

“Okay,” Dean said, and Cas relaxed, because perhaps he was no longer required to generate a response. But then he stiffened again, his heart convulsing in his chest as Dean leaned over him again and kissed him.

Would it be immoral to indulge if this might be his only chance to experience this?

While his brain contemplated the morality of his proposed actions, his body decided to indulge in said action and he found himself reciprocating. Vociferously.

And, oh, Dean did not seem uninterested either. Castiel found himself getting equally … _interested_.

And then Dean was slotting a knee between his legs and he could feel himself starting to teeter off the edge of the Impala and Dean’s hand was warm and urgent against his scalp and−

“Hello!”

Castiel will graciously accept that he yelped quite embarrassingly. His head bounced off the edge of the hood and he tumbled onto the asphalt with a lack of grace he had never exhibited in all his millennia of existence. Dean fared no better, as he tumbled off and on top of Castiel moments later, rendering him even more breathless.

He was glad he did not, technically, need oxygen.

“Jack! Don’t you knock?” Dean grumbled before scrabbling off Castiel and then spinning to face the new ruler of the universe. It must have dawned upon him at that moment, because he went ahead and flung himself at Jack, leaving Cas breathless and red-faced on the ground.

That was inconsiderate. _This is the ingrate I decided to fall in love with. There is something amiss in my mind_.

Cas climbed to his feet, in a fruitless attempt to salvage some shred of dignity, as Dean and Jack separated.

“I told you Dean felt the same!” Jack grinned brightly at him. _If the ground swallowed me up, would I fall to Earth? Well, Sam can keep me company._

“Yes, Jack, you were right,” Cas sighed.

“Hi Dean! Do you like the new Heaven? Cas said you hated how it was and how it wasn’t really real, and then Mom said that I could totally plagiarize ‘The Good Place’, and oh! You’ll get free Netflix here, because Cas wanted to binge watch that show about black oranges and he didn’t have a payment method because we get the Netflix for the Heaven region−”

_Can God hyperventilate? Perhaps 3-year old God could …_

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Okay, kid, slow,” Dean laughed. Before he sobered and said, “Uh, I mean, I guess you’re God now so … can I still call you that? This is fuckin’ weird, God’s younger than I am.”

“You’re telling me,” Cas muttered. “And I did _not_ binge-watch.”

“Hush, Castiel, you can’t lie to God,” Dean waved a dismissive hand at him and _how can that same hand be so infuriating right now?_ “You’re a genius, kid. Thank you. I am so goddamn proud of you. Also, _the hell you mean_ ‘Heaven region’?”

“Ah, yeah, the person who _really_ created Netflix. Um, Randolph kind of … stole it … from this woman who was talking about her idea and the beta version she’d created in a coffee shop. She ended up taking her life, and,” Cas shook his head at Jack vigorously. _Some other time._ “Anyway, she doesn’t really hold a grudge, and now she runs the whole company that divides Hell Netflix from Heaven Netflix.”

Dean looked overwhelmed. Or perhaps constipated; Castiel couldn’t see his face.

“Hah, Hell Netflix. Like, all the shitty horror shows ever made?” Dean let out a tremulous laugh. Cas cringed, opening his mouth to cut Jack off but−

“Oh, I guess,” Jack chimed. Cas relaxed. “But it’s mostly porn.”

_Dammit Jack._

Dean choked on air and demanded, “Who the fuck told you what porn was?!”

“Okay! Jack, why are you here? Do you need help? Is it the fledglings?” Cas bodily removed the fuming human from close proximity to his child. Dean’s head whipped to him, a question upon his lips, but Cas cut him off with a quirk of his eyebrow. _Later._

“No, no, everything’s fine with the fledglings. One of them may have set Naomi’s hair on fire, but honestly, the angels seem to enjoy that.”

_I mustn’t laugh._

“I wanted to welcome both of you to Heaven!” Jack smiled at Dean. _Both?_

Dean’s eyes widened, “Sammy’s here?”

_Oh._

“He’s talking to Bobby. Also, Dean, I can’t believe you kept Miracle!”

_Miracle?_

“Ah, yeah. That dog was there when I kinda needed the support, ya know?” Dean looked flustered.

“I thought you hated dogs,” Cas frowned.

“Like I said, you changed me,” Dean said, this time with a cheeky grin that softened the intensity of that phrase minutely. “Okay, let’s go before he reveals anything else that’ll make Bobby blow out his ornery back from laughing.”

_Yes, let’s go._

*****


	2. Don't Cry No More

“ _And I just smashed that plate of pie in his face_.”

Dean felt his heart soar, listening to the elation in Sammy’s voice.

_Dean … it’s okay.  
You can go now._

Then he heard Bobby howl like a werewolf being gutted and registered what the fuck Sammy was blabbering about.

“Hey, bitch!” Dean called, ignoring Cas’s tired husband routine as he heard him sigh beside him. Sam spun around as Dean approached but then– “The _fuck_?! Dude, you look like a leather chair. What the fuck is that on your head?!”

Sam laughed in delight and Dean wanted to cry. Sammy died of old age. _Kid looks older than Bobby._

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Jack?”

Dean might’ve jolted at Cas swearing because one, that’s just wrong, and B, _why is that so hot?_

When he swerved around at the snap of Jack’s fingers, Sam looked like he had that day. He groaned appreciatively, “Damn, that feels good. Bein’ old sucks, Bobby, how’d you do it all your life?”

Bobby smacked Sam upside the head and called him an idjit and Dean laughed.

 _Now_ it was perfect.

*****

It was an embarrassingly tearful reunion. No, really, Cas and Sam were deadass bawling their eyes out.

And Dean got it, really, because he got the farewell speech at the retirement party when Cas was taken. But it had been ten goddamn minutes. Sammy’s old man body could not have had that much water. Was he crying pee now?

When Bobby started sniffling, Dean made the executive decision to head that off at the pass. “Okay, come on, Sam stop infecting my angel with your goddamn hormones.”

_Shit._

Well, at least that shocked Sam out of his PMS emoting. Bobby cleared his throat after a moment, ‘coz Bobby took the hits and rolled like a cranky old bulldozer, “’bout time, ya idjits.”

“I told Cas so,” Jack chimed.

“No one likes a brag, kid,” Dean groused. He looked up at Sammy. “Hey, you okay, man?”

“SERIOUSLY?!” Sammy could shriek like a chickadee. Great.

“Sam−” Cas started.

“NO, Cas. I had to deal with the two of you eye-fucking for 12 goddamn years. I _gave up_ on Deastiel, okay? I finally made myself _believe_ that I was seeing things. You assholes!”

“What’s eye-fucking?” Jack chimed.

“I believe it’s called _Destiel_ , Sam, if you’re referring to the fan interpretations of Chuck’s books,” Cas chimed.

“We _do not_ eye-fuck,” Dean argued hotly.

“Stop yer warbling,” Bobby grumped like the grumpy old man he was. “Dean, ya call it ocular love-makin’ if that makes you feel better. Cas, don’t you mention that pile o’ shit’s name in Heaven. And, Jack, eye-fuckin’ is what your daddies do in public ‘coz they’re inveterate idjits.” Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Bobby grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him to the bar, “Now get your asses in here before your parents come and we can talk baby names.”

Dean didn’t make it to Heaven. This was bizarro Hell.

*****

It wasn’t until drink number three that Dean realized his parents were coming over, which yay and all that jazz but also. John Winchester.

Fuck.

Cas, because he was the most observant dork in Heaven, noticed Dean’s mood shifting immediately.

_Castiel, do not draw attention to me right now because I **will** have a bitchfit._

Miracle of miracles, all Cas did was gently slip his fingers into Dean’s hand under the table. Maybe Dean had prayed to him accidentally, or maybe Cas was getting socialized finally.

_He deserves better._

No, Dean refused to go down that road. He was in Heaven, and he was going to feel it.

“Cas, I need to talk to you outside,” he whispered. Cas smiled as though he knew, again, somehow. He nodded regardless and released Dean’s hand, and Dean followed him outside.

“Dean, is this about your parents? Because you do not need to tell them right away. You don’t need to tell them at all, if you don’t want to,” Cas was still giving him that gentle smile of his as though Dean wasn’t being the cowardliest asshole that ever assholed. “I know you didn’t mean to reveal it right now. Sam and I, ah, annoyed you out of the closet.”

_Look at that proud little smile._

“Cas, no. That’s … I want to tell them. And I’m not really worried about Mom that much, you know?”

“You shouldn’t be … I think she knew, somehow, at least of my regard for you.”

Dean smiled. “I’ve missed her so much. And it’s fucked up, I know, because Dad made my life hell, but I missed him too.”

“Dean, I may never understand why; but I know how. You have an immense capacity to love, and John, however undeserving he may be, mandated that love by virtue of being your sire.” Castiel smoothed his fingers over his cheek and Dean was never getting used to these casual caresses.

 _Is it gay to lean in when your angel boyfriend caresses your cheek_ , a giddy part of him mused.

“I’ll tell Mom. We’ll cross the Dad bridge when we come to it,” Dean muttered. He felt like he probably had a sappy look on his face. He definitely had a sappy look on his face.

Cas, the inveterate asshole, did that adorable tilty-head-with-a-squint face and intoned, “Did that analogy make sense when you were formulating it?”

“Shut up, it makes complete sense.”

“It really doesn’t, Dean.”

“Your face doesn’t make sense.”

“… neither does that response.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Dean laughed as he pecked him, all domestic and shit, on his lips. “You can’t be mean to me anymore; that’d make you a shitty boyfriend.”

Cas did that cheeky grin again and _oh God, how did I not realize how much I loved this dumb feather-duster_?

“Aren’t we too old to use that term?”

“Come on, shitty boyfriend. Maybe you’re my sugar daddy, given the age gap. You ever think about that?” Dean mused, pulling him back inside.

Castiel was inebriated.

This did not bode well.

Case in point: “No, Jack, jam and honey are not the same thing. I am affer-afferofonted– _mad_ you would suggest that.”

_Castiel, is the virtue of honey really worth the barrage of shame you will experience upon regaining sobriety?_

“But Cas, they’re both gooey, sweet things you put on toast.”

_Screw sobriety. That’s just ignorant._

“You do not put jam on bread. That is an abo-abomomation. Abomination,” Castiel snarled at the ruler of the universe.

Sam, who was also heavily inebriated, found this extremely funny. He fell off his chair. _Screw Dean as well, I’m evidently in possession of a sense of humor._

“Hey, Cas! Cas! Do you remember when you said _I_ was an abomination?”

Ah, well, that was a somewhat morbid memory to laugh at. He and Sam had started off alarmingly rocky.

“Sam, I’m sorry. That was rude of me, ‘coz I judged you without realizing how pure your soul truly was. I’m a bad friend,” Cas lamented.

_Wait, Dean, are you giving Jack beer? That is extremely unwise. It’s bad parenting, that’s what it is._

_So is holding a gun to your son’s head._

He couldn’t find it in himself to forgive Dean for that. He probably never will.

Dean did not respond to his indignant thought, which was annoying, because Castiel was not capable of articulate verbalization at that point. Now who was being a shitty boyfriend?

“Hey! Hey, I’m still talkin’ Cazzz,” Sam was hitting his arm. Sam did not realize his own strength. Cas scowled, winding up to correct Sam’s misapplication of the phoneme ‘z’ before Sam grabbed his face between his gigantic hands and pushed. With all his might.

Castiel may have made a sound of distress because the next thing he knew, Dean was pulling Sam away and teasing, “Hands off this one, yeti. If you break his jaw and I can’t make out with him for a week, I’m gonna give you a bowl haircut tonight.”

_Interesting. Is that a curse? A bowl for hair sounds unpleasant. But Sam would look funny._

“Dean, are you not inebritated?” And then Dean was lifting him off the floor, which Cas had no recollection of relocating to.

“Kay, Sunshine, let’s get you to a couch or something. We can do the meet the in-laws thing later,” Dean ignored his question, which was rude. Dean could be very rude. Cas did not like rude Dean. Except when Dean followed it up with that fond smile and that head scratch and _ohhh, that feels lovely_.

The floor was vibrating. No, it was Dean’s thigh. His head was on Dean’s thigh. _Dean_ was vibrating.

_That can’t be right._

Oh, he must be laughing. Castiel liked Dean’s laughter. And Dean engaging in the act of laughing.

“I love you, Dean,” he breathed.

“Oh, yeah?” Dean’s eyes were twinkling. Cas liked that too. The shine in his eyes almost rivaled the gleam of his soul. “I couldn’t tell with you purring in my lap, _Catstiel_.”

Cas snickered, because Dean also possessed a knack for humorous puns.

“I love you too,” Dean whispered in a gentle tone. Cas turned and threw his arms around his waist, or perhaps he moved his wings because he couldn’t really tell them apart, and buried his face into Dean’s middle.

_This is extremely pleasant._

*****

_This is extremely unpleasant._

Dean’s laughter was also unpleasant, because Dean was being a sadist.

“Can’t you just, like, mojo your hangover away? How’d you even get drunk in the first place? I thought Jack topped you up.”

“No, I can’t cure myself. Jack believes that angels need to feel pain in order to sympathize with humans better. Life-threatening injuries only. And I’m drunk because Jack−”

“Revamped your powers, yeah, yeah.”

Cas scowled, and even that hurt. “If you knew that, why did you ask?”

“Jesus, don’t bite my head off. Here, remember this?”

Cas lifted his head off his palms and squinted at the white bottle in Dean’s hand. Aspirin. Humans. Planning for their imminent bad choices. They really are apt teachers. “Don’t call upon Jesus; you might summon him. What if we’re engaged in intercourse and you blaspheme as usual and he manifests in the room?”

Dean made an odd gurgling sound and Castiel ignored Dean’s hyperbolic flailing.

“Should I take all of them?” Cas peered down at the bottle.

“Nah, just take like, five? I dunno with your new biology, man,” Dean hummed, crouching by Cas’s knee and reaching up to run his hand over Cas’s scalp. “You gonna start purring for me again, kitty-cat?”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, yeah, talk dirty to me, baby,” Dean feigned swooning.

“That’s not all I’ll do to you,” Cas muttered darkly, irritated to be confused between arousal and annoyance. _Only Dean could evoke such mired emotions_.

“Promise?” he winked. But Castiel caught the hint of gravity in his countenance.

“Oh my Jack, you’re making me sick. I’m gonna puke and it’s not even the whiskey’s fault,” Sam warbled from where he was flung across the other couch.

“Shuddup, bitch. Stop your _pietà_ impression and empty that damn glass or I’ll pour it over that floppy head of yours,” Dean rolled his eyes so hard Cas wondered if they’d have matching headaches now.

“Hey, numbnut-trio,” Bobby walked back into the bar. “Got John and Mary convinced not to come see your sorry faces today. But I’m closin’ up shop. Karen’s making lasagna, if you can keep it down.”

Sam, apparently, could not.

The sounds and the stench of his violent regurgitation set Cas off.

“Aw, it’s okay, baby. Let’s take a hot shower, come on,” Dean was petting his hair and crooning to him. Cas released a pitiful whimper because it was not okay. But he forced himself to his feet, swaying dangerously over the puke on the floor. As much as he agreed with Jack’s plan to make angels more empathetic, he dearly wished to throttle the boy at that moment.

“Well, I ain’t cleaning that up. Your angel, you do it,” Bobby snorted, turning on his heel. Dean whined, looking down at the puddle, before it blinked out of existence. Of course, Heaven.

“Handy,” Dean grinned up at Cas as he swung an arm around his waist. Then he winked and said, “First one’s free for you.”

Castiel did not understand, but Sam apparently did and was unhappy about it. This time his disgusting purging did not trigger Cas, but it was disgusting nonetheless and Cas whimpered embarrassingly. Dean pulled him closer and kissed his temple.

“Jerk, you’re never this nice to me when I overdo it,” Sam called.

 _Oh, are you done being disgusting? Perhaps I do find the sound of your voice grating after all_.

“That’s ‘coz you ain’t half as adorable as this dork when you’re drunk. You entertain me, you get the cuddles.” He hauled Cas closer to himself and set off towards the exit. “Let’s go, Sunshine.”

*****

_Oh. ‘Let **us** take a hot shower.’_

*****

#### And they lived (sorta) happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made this into a series, so I'll be breaking the fix-it in the next part. That being said, this was my version of the ending we deserved.  
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Take care :)

**Author's Note:**

> header art destination: [ByelingualBH](https://www.deviantart.com/byelingualbh)


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